


Radiance

by purplesocrates



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Post TWOTL, Scar Worship, radiance, wound care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-18 04:20:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13092282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplesocrates/pseuds/purplesocrates
Summary: This is my fic for the Radiance anthology.Set post TWOTL





	Radiance

**Radiance – By purplesocrates**

_You were supposed to leave._

_I would remember this time._

_Do you ache for him?_

Hannibal was sleeping, a lion in repose. Will watched every breath as it left his mouth, he could almost see it like smoke from a dragon curling into the air.  This was the first time he had ever truly looked at Hannibal, seen his scars, the lines on his face, the curve of his mouth, the high stripe of his cheekbones. His skin a myriad of crevasses he could fall into, that he had fallen into.  

No longer could Will see the monster that used to haunt his dreams, stalking his subconscious with such persistence.  Where he used to see one he now saw the other.  They had merged in his mind, the tall, black, slick antlered figure and this man.

They had dragged each other back from the depths, salt in wounds, blood mingling together as it left their bodies in a rushed exit.  They had emerged together, stumbling, clinging, holding each other up, every footstep they took, they took together.

 _Didn’t they always_ Will thought, the way Hannibal had so obviously mirrored his movements when incarcerated.

_Hannibal always mirrored you, you just failed to notice, or wanted to see._

They had left a trail of mutual destruction behind them, sticky, bloody footprints mixing with sand and rocks, burning the ground with their heat.

They both now had a new shared language of scars, overriding the hurts with new wounds and ripped flesh they had received together, carved into each other by reciprocal, communal acts of violence.  Will could see a map on Hannibal’s face that he had not been able to see before, he could see the lines connecting showing him the path to his becoming. He thought about all the scars Hannibal received while he knew him, ones he had given him and ones he had witnessed.  He wondered what they felt like, he wanted to touch them but he couldn’t quite bring himself to.  It was as if the old wounds might burn him, sizzle up again through Hannibal’s skin like the brand on his back.  Will imagined them though, he looked at where he knew they were and saw them through the layers of clothes and bedsheets.  They shone with a persistence that wrapped itself around him as if flames were licking at his own skin.

He thought about how Hannibal would have watched him like this once before, in his house in Wolf Trap after he had carried him there.  How waking up and seeing him waiting in a chair by his bed had made him ache, he had thought it was the last time he would ever see him.  He should have known Hannibal would never let him leave, not truly.

Will didn’t want to leave, he knew that now.  He couldn’t.  

Hannibal’s eyes had started to flicker, the pain of his wounds beginning to twist around his nerves and force consciousness upon him.  He could also feel Will’s presence, the studying gaze on him and he didn’t want to disturb it so he let wakefulness happen slowly and in degrees.  

Hannibal was waiting for Will to say something, to give him permission to open his eyes.  He continued to wait until he couldn’t stand it a moment longer and his eyelids slowly opened revealing deep, brown almost red almonds looking, just looking back.

“You are still here.” Hannibal said this with a rasp in his voice,  he could have sworn there was a slight twitch of Will’s lips into a considered smile.

“I’m still here.” Will definitely did smile now and after a pause added, “we are still here.”

“Where is here?” Hannibal wanted to move but found he couldn’t quite muster the motivation while Will still held his gaze.

“Do you mean is this heaven or is this hell?”

Hannibal smile, “I think it would be heaven,” he said simply and Will paused at his openness.

“I was thinking it would be more akin to purgatory.”

“Purgatory was the water, we are no longer waiting Will.  You made a choice when we came out of the sea together.”

Will raised an eyebrow. “So this is heaven?”

“Of a sorts, we are both dead are we not? Our old selves and lives washed away in the current.”

“You say that as if we could ever be clean, as if we could ever start again.  As if you could ever start again without the chains of your past clinking behind you, dragging you down.  You forget I have been to where you were born.”

Will saw him blink and look away briefly but it was not long until he once more met Will’s eyes with with his usual intensity. “Have you ever known me to be sentimental, Will?”

“You left me your broken heart.  Or was that meant for someone else?”

“No it was meant for you. Everything I do, is meant for you.”

“We are conjoined,” Will sighed and looked away, Hannibal missed his stare.

“We are.”  Hannibal shifted slightly his bones ached and he hissed in pain, his eyes were adjusting to the light now and he could see Will more clearly, the gash on his cheek was still red and Hannibal wondered if Will had done the stitches himself, probably, he would correct them when he was able.

“You told me once that blood and breath are only elements undergoing change to fuel my radiance.”  Will’s voice was distant and soft, almost a whisper with a hint of nostalgia.

“Do you feel as if you have changed?  Do you feel radiant after slaying a dragon, with me?”

Will laughed.  “No I do not feel radiant, I feel broken and in pain.  But changed?… Yes.”

Hannibal thought that he looked radiant but he didn’t say it. “We are both changed, by each other.”

Will knew Hannibal said that to echo his words in the kitchen and he felt a twinge of pain around the scar on his stomach, his fingers rubbed his shirt where it was, unconsciously finding the exact spot under the fabric, it felt as if there was a slight heat coming from it burning the tips of his fingers through the fabric.  Hannibal noticed this and smiled briefly.

Will turned his head back to look at Hannibal again. “You admit I changed you?”

“I was changed the moment I met you Will, I just didn’t accept it.”

Will took those words in as a collective truth, the manifestation of their shared language of scars, “I know.”

Silence overtook them, Will’s eyes drawn to Hannibal for a few moments more and then drifted to the window. Hannibal took in his surroundings, he could smell the sea and hear the waves in the distance.

“Chiyoh.” Hannibal whispered under his breath and he looked at Will who nodded absently.  He should have known she would save him, surprised she would save Will though.

“She’s strong but even she needed help dragging your unconscious dead weight here,” Will said as if reading his mind. “for that I endeared myself to her and I promised to not try and kill you again, at least not straight away.”

Hannibal smiled. “I am glad to hear it.”

“She’ll be back day after tomorrow.  She helped me stitch you up,” _so he has done those stitches himself,_ “she has left supplies, said she would return for us with papers and transport.  Not sure what she meant by transport she wasn’t particularly talkative.”

Hannibal nodded and winced again. “Did she leave thread and a needle?  I’d like to re do those stitches for you. I assume you did them yourself?”

Will looked at him with a questioning in his eyes. “Worried I’ll scar?  Never seemed to bother you before.”

Hannibal laughed and then winced again, “scar in a way I would I not approve of, yes.”

“You would like all my scars to be your design.”  Will was not actually that surprised about this, Hannibal did always know exactly how and where to cut.

“I prefer it that way yes.”

Will laughed. “I’m sure you do.”  

“You look exhausted. Have you slept?”

“No,” Will hadn’t slept he had been watching and waiting for Hannibal to wake up, wondering if he would.  Wondering if he wanted him to.  He suddenly felt exhaustion weighing on him, yawning with a wince from the pain that flared in his cheek, the flesh unyielding and swollen.

Hannibal gingerly sat up, attempting to swing his legs over the bed but this proved a more painful task than he had anticipated. “Let me look at your stitches.”

Will looked at him for a moment, studying him and thinking about what his response to this should be.  He slowly stood up and sat on the bed close to Hannibal so he could place his fingers over the rough stitches as Will flinched in pain.

“Well you haven’t done a particularly good job, they are too large and rushed.”

Will thought about responding with _“it’s quite hard to stitch your own face up”_ , but realised that with Hannibal’s high pain tolerance he probably wouldn’t agree.  So he just rolled his eyes and sighed.  “Don’t worry, Chiyoh did yours.” Will then got off the bed and went into the kitchen where Chiyoh had left the medical supplies, he came back with a first aid kit and the suture equipment and resumed his place on the bed next to Hannibal.  

Hannibal sifted through the basic supplies taking what he needed, pulling on gloves and then set about removing the rough stitches while Will held a dry gauze up to his face to catch any blood.  He worked with a singular intensity that was gentle and swift, gloved fingers only touching the skin when necessary.  Hannibal was gentle but it still hurt, Will would wince every now and again while Hannibal would smile every time causing Will to grimace at the pleasure Hannibal took in causing him pain.  Once he was finished, Will felt the stitches with the pads of his fingers, they were small and compact much better than his own.   Hannibal then removed the gloves and brushed his own fingertips over the small stitches, lingering there to feel the heat of Will’s skin.  Eventually he asked Will for a fresh bandage which he placed over the stitches with care.

Will then cleared away the supplies, retreating briefly back to the kitchen where he absently touched the bandage still feeling the lingering heat of Hannibal’s touch.

When Will returned he stood hovering by the chair. “You should rest Will, I can take the chair.”  Hannibal again attempted to move but pain shot through him and Will smiled.

“It’s okay, there is room.” Will made his way to the other side of the bed, taking his shoes off before he laid down, sighing as his head hit the pillow.

Hannibal watched him as he closed his eyes and almost immediately fell into a deep slumber. Eyes followed Will’s chest moving up and down, his eyes flickering behind his eyelids. Hannibal suddenly felt as if he could watch Will sleep like this forever and was reminded of the hours he got to do that at his house in Wolf Trap after the Verger incident. Then Will had woken up and rejected him, three years of nothing from him after that. Now they were here again, together.

Hannibal listened to Will’s breathing as the light faded into the afternoon, the sun was hidden behind clouds now and it smelled like rain. Eventually Will woke up, his eyes opened and met Hannibal’s who smiled gently at him.

“How do you feel?” Hannibal asked.

Will carefully stretched his arms and legs. “Better I think, you were right I needed to sleep.  How do you feel?”

“In pain but I have a high tolerance for it, also hungry.”

Will laughed “you have less of a tolerance for that. I guess it’s my turn to cook seeing as you can’t get out of bed.”

Hannibal smiled. “I suppose it is.”

Will gently raised himself to sit up and then swung his legs over the bed. He slowly made his way out of the bedroom to the kitchen.

They ate mostly in silence, side by side in the bed. Will had started laughing at one point saying he never thought he would be in bed with Hannibal Lecter eating. It had been a strained slightly strangled laugh and Hannibal's smile had not entirely met his eyes.

"There are a lot of things perhaps you never allowed yourself to imagine doing."

"A lot of things I did."

"Do you feel a kind of peace now it's no longer imagined?"

Will paused at that and looked at Hannibal, broken and bloodied beside him imagining himself to look similar. "Now that I have accepted the darkness? Maybe, I don't know. I thought that it had left me or at least I hoped you had cut it out of me in your kitchen. My darkness had merged with Abigail's blood and rotted down into the depths of the earth where it belonged."

At the mention of Abigail there was a silence, a reverence that felt like a final goodbye, Will imagined her easy smile and then let it drift away like dust. "The knife did not go that deep."

Will laughed. "You made sure of that too."

"In that moment I don't think I made sure of anything. I just needed it to be over. For both of us."

Will smiled. "It never is though between us is it? Where you go I follow."

"Where you go I follow, it was you who threw us off the cliff."

"You let me."

Hannibal nodded and they continued to eat in silence. Will was thinking about the word conjoined and what that meant to him in this moment of calm, a moment of peace that he had never expected to have. Perhaps Hannibal was right this was heaven, he smiled staring out of the window at the rain which had just started to fall and Hannibal looked at him quizzically. Will thought of storms and their eyes.  

"Are we now reborn?" Hannibal eventually broke Will's revelry as he stared out of the window pondering the same thing, he was no longer surprised when Hannibal wandered into his mind with such ease after all he had left the door open.

"Do you feel reborn?"

Hannibal considered this question for a moment before answering. "I think perhaps I was reborn when I met you. Everything since has been growing pains."

Will smiled. "I feel reconfigured rather than re-born if that makes sense. As if the parts of me which have been changed are old parts just in different shapes. The shape they were meant to be all along."

"I was right." Will looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "About the elements in you changing to fuel your radiance."

Will sighed. "I still don't feel radiant."

Hannibal looked at him in the half light of the room, seeing him as he was when he slayed the dragon covered in blood and shining in the moonlight. "You _are_ ," Hannibal was suddenly gripped by a fear of borrowed time, that Will would burn out and go back to his old confused self and leave him. "Will you stay?" Hannibal's voice would have sounded calm to anyone but Will.

Will placed his bowl on the floor taking Hannibal's from him, placing it next to his. He sat back up and looked at Hannibal's hand which he had placed between them as a question, an offered gift.  Will placed his hand over Hannibal's and looked up to meet his eyes, there were tears in them and Will was reminded of storms, but also of their aftermath, that to create you needed to destroy. Nature and arguably God, showed us this all the time that everything is temporary and everything is changing. _Typhoid and swans_ as Hannibal had said to him in their former life, _it all comes from the same place_. He could almost feel his organs shifting as though realigning themselves to their new body. He imagined the scar tissue inside and out, all seemingly baring Hannibal's name. Did Hannibal's scars bare Will’s name?

"Where else would I go?"

"You could go back to your old life."

"Which one? I've had so many."

"Whichever one you choose. Or you could create a new one."

"Without you."  Will says this unsure as to what his life would look like without Hannibal in it.  Even when he was with Molly, Hannibal was always there on the edges, Will always knew where he was.  Just as Hannibal had wanted.  

"Yes, if that's what you want."  

Will looks at Hannibal and tries to see through the veil he is attempting to put up, he could see its cracks with these words, the rawness of his feelings towards Will shining through like the bright sinewy muscle of a heart.  The image of a broken body forced into the shape of the heart left in a church for him once again swam across Will’s mind.  

"You would just leave?  Not fight for me?  Try and find me?"

Tears were falling down Hannibal’s face but he seemed not to realise they were there or refused to acknowledge them. "I would try,” the brokenness in his voice made Will realise he knew those tears were there, he felt every one burning his skin on their way down.  More scars.

Will found he was drawn to Hannibal in that moment like a magnetic pull, as if he could feel the skin between them merge together. Will shifted so he was facing Hannibal and leant forward, bringing his hands up to cup Hannibal's face, gently wiping the tears away with his thumbs. Hannibal closed his eyes as Will did this, in pleasure or in pain Will couldn't tell, perhaps both.  He thought of all the times Hannibal had placed a hand on his forehead or his shoulder to steady him, unconsciously he placed his lips on Hannibal’s forehead placing a chaste kiss on the warm skin.

"We are conjoined remember." Will spoke these words into Hannibal's skin, Hannibal stifled a moan. He lifted his hands to Will's face, one hand made its way to the back of Will's neck and the other gently touched the bandage on his cheek.  

Hannibal gently pulled Will closer to him so their lips were almost touching. "So you will stay with me?" Hannibal had opened his eyes now and was looking at Will's face so close to his own, feeling his breath hot against his own skin.

Will smiled and Hannibal felt the shape of it against his lips, "yes." Hannibal kissed him then, a gesture of desperation and relief. Will let him because he knew they were inevitable, predestined. _Radiant_.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are always adored xx


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